Don't Hate Who I Was
by Tarafina
Summary: Rachel helps Santana dispel some fears about who she was and who she is. :Pezberry:


**Title**: Don't Hate Who I Was (She Made Me Who You Love Now)  
><strong>Category<strong>: Glee  
><strong>Genre<strong>: Romance  
><strong>Ship<strong>: Santana/Rachel  
><strong>Rating<strong>: Teen  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 1,587  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Rachel helps Santana dispel some fears about who she was and who she is.

**_Don't Hate Who I Was (She Made Me Who You Love Now)_**  
>-11-

Sometimes, Santana wondered how she got to where she was. Even to _who _she was. There was a time in high school when this reality, this current life of hers, seemed little more than a farfetched dream. And so she tucked it away into the recesses of her mind and focused on things that came much easier to her; things that weren't out of her reach. She put up a cold-hearted front of not caring about anybody but herself and acting like she was be all, end all fabulous. And, for the most part, that was true.

Santana loved herself. She wasn't always nice or sweet and she couldn't give a flying fuck about hurting other people's feelings. She told it like it was and people should have appreciated that. But, she did have insecurities, fears, that nagging feeling that she wasn't completely true to herself. Yes, she liked girls; in fact, she enjoyed their soft skin and lady kisses and gentle voices a whole hell of a lot more than grabby, big hands and firm, rough flesh, and deep, masculine tones. But she covered it up fine and Puck was always a good ride, even if he was the most _male _of all of her companions.

There came a time though when she got tired of hiding; tired of being somebody she wasn't. A time when she wanted to love wholly and freely and feel it in return. Fast forward more than a decade later, and she had that. She had a beautiful apartment with a view, a doting wife that loved to sing her praises almost as much as her own, and a daughter on the way.

Resting her head on Rachel's shoulder, the sweet, familiar fragrance of jasmine filling her senses, she reached a hand out to rub circles on her partner's distended belly. Rachel, as usual, was in the middle of reading one of her many pregnancy magazines, she was practically hording them by this point, while simultaneously eating a bag of vegan trail mix balanced on her chest.

Pausing with her magazine, she laid it back on the night stand and placed her trail mix on. Brushing Santana's hair back, she rubbed her thumb lightly along her bare shoulder. "You're deep in thought," she noticed.

Santana pursed her lips, her eyes falling to the white gold wedding band around her finger as her hand work smooth, soft circles, searching out her daughter's kick. She smiled as she felt it, steady as always, before finally voicing aloud, "What are we going to tell her when she asks how we met?"

Rachel stroked Santana's hair back from her temple. "That we grew up together," she said simply.

She scoffed under her breath. "I practically tortured you from middle school on…"

"You did not _torture _me…" she argued. "I prefer to look back on it as hair-pulling… A misguided form of showing affection."

She rolled her eyes at her wife's _expected _fairy-tail twist. "I was a cold-hearted bitch." Frowning, she added, "And I didn't have feelings for you until senior year."

"Junior," Rachel corrected.

Santana raised a brow, though she knew she couldn't see her. "I think I know when I got hot for your berries."

She clucked her tongue. "You were _attracted _to me Junior year, at least, but I can see how your feelings might not have manifested until senior year," she allowed, vaguely picking invisible lint off of Santana's silky red night gown. "You were still hoping Brittany would be with you after all…"

Santana smiled knowingly. "You're pouting, aren't you?"

"Of course not!"

"Rach." She turned over onto her stomach and raised a brow. "It was more than a decade ago."

"Nearly eleven years, I'm aware," she muttered. "And I seem to remember you were very much in love with her…" She pursed her lips. "I also seem to remember she was quite skinny and flexible and she didn't have a beach ball for a stomach…"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I was in love with her."

Rachel pouted, disappointed she didn't get the immediate praise and comfort she wanted.

She shook her head in amusement. "But if your memory's so good, maybe you should check it… Brittany didn't love me as much as I did her." She shrugged slightly. "And some loud-mouthed midget helped me through that…" Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, she added, "The same midget that's probably even hotter now than she was back in high school…"

Rachel dropped her face slightly, her lips curling faintly in a smile. "Really?"

"Well, I kinda miss the mini skirts, but thank God you got rid of the animal sweaters, they were hiding all your goodies…" She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Santana!" she cried, laughing helplessly.

"Whatever…" Resting her head on her upturned hand, she said, "Rach, Brittany was my first love… But you?" She stared at her meaningfully. "_Eres mi amor__ por siempre…_" (You are forever my love.)

Rachel pressed a hand to her heart.

Reaching up, Santana trailed her thumb over Rachel's lower lip. "You're my baby mama, I put a ring on _your _finger, and New York is _our _home…" She shrugged. "And I wouldn't change it..." She cast her eyes down at Rachel's rounded belly. "Britt helped me grow up; she taught me love wasn't a weakness. I didn't have to be afraid of my feelings…" She took her wife's hand and threaded their fingers. "So when I stole you away from that pasty, white boy and his puffy pyramid nipples, I was _ready_ for you…"

Rachel blinked tearful eyes and shook her head. "Santana, you didn't _steal _me from Finn… Our relationship had run its course."

"Yeah, and you realized my lady kisses were better than being smothered by Sasquatch," she scoffed.

Rachel nodded, admitting, "Well you are very dedicated to your craft…"

Smirking proudly, she declared, "Seduction is my talent, Ray."

"And you do it so well…" she mused.

Snuggling into her once more, she rubbed her cheek against Rachel's shoulder. "I just don't want our daughter to think badly of me, y'know?" She frowned. "I want our story to be romantic, not…" She sighed. "I don't want her to think I was some awful bitch!"

"Well… You kind of were…"

Santana groaned, closed her eyes, and buried her face in Rachel's neck, taking comfort in each jasmine filled inhale.

Rachel stroked her hair and rubbed her back. "But the point is that you're human and you grew, you _learned _from your mistakes, and you put your heart on the line…" She nodded. "It was broken the first time but you tried again, with someone who, _yes_, had once been a target of your lashing out… But as it turns out, she was just who you needed in your life… The perfect balance." She smiled sweetly down at her. "And that is what we'll tell our daughter when she asks."

Santana raised her head to look up at her with a soft smile curling her lips.

"Of course, by then, the story won't matter…" She brushed her hair back from her face and cupped Santana's soft cheek. "Because she'll have grown up with us and she'll know what a beautiful and kind and loving person you are…" She smiled, rolling her eyes slightly as she added, "Even if you curse in Spanish and have little to no patienceand occasionally write hate mail to anybody who doesn't cast me after an audition…"

Santana shrugged her shoulder acceptingly.

"Speaking your mind isn't a bad thing, San… You just happen to be very _colorful _when you do…" She grinned widely. "And trust me, you've toned that down since high school…" She nodded. "Let's not forget that I wasn't exactly the nicest person back then, either… I had a faulty brain to mouth filter which made me think my oftentimes rude constructive criticism wasn't as mean-spirited as it was and that people should have been thankful I paid them any attention at all..."

She snorted, nodding as she agreed. "Okay."

Smiling happily, Rachel rested her cheek against Santana's dark hair. "I hope you know… I love our story. And I think it _is _romantic…"

"I know, baby." She looked up at her warmly. "Me too."

Rachel pressed her lips to hers in a slow, searing kiss, smiling as Santana's hand slid up from her waist and palmed a breast. She was quite fond of how pregnancy had added a little more oomph to her chest. Chuckling under her breath, she nipped lightly at her wife's lips and nuzzled her nose.

Santana paused suddenly when she felt a kick right against her stomach, where was pressed tight to Rachel's side. She smiled and drew back, turning adoring eyes downward. "She's gonna be a dancer; just like her mama…"

Their hands met on the topmost curve of her stomach, fingers twined, Santana's wedding band glinting in the low light.

"Or a smart and talented lawyer like her mommy."

"Anything," Santana declared, resting her cheek against Rachel's. "She can be anything she wants."

Wrapped up tight together, Santana decided it was time to stop wondering about the _how'_s and simply enjoy what life had given her. Sure, she and Rachel had a rocky beginning, but their present and future were solid. There was nobody in the world she loved more than her wife; at least until their daughter Maria was born. And then she had two leading ladies in her life that owned her heart, and not one regret.

[**End.**]


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